“Dad!”
She tried to smile.
“What are you doing down here?”
“Just finishing the laundry.”
“Where’s the washing machine?”
She looked away.
“I wasn’t allowed to use it today.”
I stared at the pile of clothes beside her.
“Why not?”
“Because Aunt Patricia said I made too much noise last time.”
I crouched beside her.
“Sweetheart, you can tell me the truth.”
She shook her head.
“Please don’t get angry, Dad.”
“I’m not angry with you.”
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she rolled up her sleeve to wash another shirt.
That’s when I noticed the bruises on her arm.
My heart sank.
I kept my voice calm.
“Sofia, how did that happen?”
She quickly pulled her sleeve down.
“I bumped into something.”
“What did you bump into?”
She couldn’t answer.
I didn’t shout. I didn’t grab her arm or demand an explanation. I simply sat beside her and told her she wasn’t in trouble.
After a long silence, she whispered, “Aunt Patricia grabbed me yesterday. She said I was being disrespectful.”
